There seems to be a time when a place just isn't just a place anymore.
Memories of the cold streets, faceless buildings, fields of grass, quiet bridges and empty streams become alive with the people that you shared memories with.
You'd know the feeling if you'd ever lost a love one. Every place you go reminds you of that person.
All of those fun times you had together come back like faint images on a foggy morning.
As contractors we know that we are dispensable employees.
We carry an emptiness inside us where ever we go.
From town to town, from group to group, we know it will end. In our hearts, we are saying goodbye when we say hello.
But sometimes...only sometimes....there are places that feel like home.
I've had that feeling in Louisville, San Diego and Pittsburgh. People knew my name and for a short time I had a sense of belonging.
It's odd that a sensitive person like myself would pick a profession where I'm a drifter, and I fear if I didn't have Becky to come along with me, I'd lose my mind.
Her memories and my pictures tie the times together, seemingly giving them purpose.
Today was a sad day for me.
We're changing offices at work. The people I've grown to like and admire so much, will be separated from us. All of the drifters like myself will be corralled together.
Changing faces, changing places. Memories past.
Once again, work will be just a job with endless computer correspondence and my life will be a cubical, with a monitor for a view.
Sometime soon, I'll be sitting at my desk at home.
I'll have those wonderful morning conversations with my brother, and I'll look in my back yard, and remember those 40 someone odd people that have lived in my home.
I guess, in the end, when everything falls apart, I will have been the glue thats held at least a few things together.